Han Solo vs Evil Doctor Who
by Blogbot
Summary: Ok, had arguement with my cousin eariler today about who would win between Doctor Who and a Star Wars smuggler. Looked up Doctor Who, and he's invinicle. I mean superman wasn't that strong. But smugglers still win. So i wrote him a story explaining how.


Han Solo vs The Doctor

_Ok let me get one thing out there first. I am not a Doctor Who fan. THEREFORE, I know little about the Doctor. All this is based on the few facts that certain people have told me about him._

_Secondly, this isn't hating on the Doctor. I have nothing against Dr Who, just not into it. But this is what happens when you try to kill Han Solo. I tried to get this across, but I flail at arguing, so just read._

_Final note: I know the Doctor's magic screwdriver can do everything EXCEPT be of any use in a firefight, but comon, how else is he meant to fight Han Solo. So from now on , it shoot lasers._

_Truly Final Note: You know what. It's an evil weird Doctor who is identical from the normal 10__th__ Doctor in every way except his spanner has a laser and is hunting down Star Wars Characters cause he works for the Empire, starting with Han Solo._

* * *

The dirty overcrowded canteena on Tatooine was busting with life. Dozens of men and women of all species gathered around the small bar, ordering drinks faster then the lone barman could possibly provide. Many more sat in brown booths around the buildings edge.

The place was alive with the sound of music and people chattering, so that a person's tales would not travel past then those who were meant to hear it. The perfect gathering place for anyone with words not meant for certain ears.

Han Solo sat in a small booth in the room's corner, the furthermost possible away from the overwhelming riff raff at the counter, leaning back and relaxed. He ran his white hand back through his brown hair. Somehow, it always feel back into it's ruffled shape. Han was dressed in a white shirt, hidden mostly behind his fashionable scruffy black sleeveless vest. Invisible beneath the table, a blaster pistol hung loosely from his brown belt.

"And then the man asks, _what's an aluminium falcon?_ Can you believe that Chewy?"

The brown wookie across from him let out a low dissatisfied growl. Their last client had refused to travel backed out of their agreement, leaving them with a large debt to Jabba the Hut. And Chewbacca knew they didn't want a debt with a Hut.

"Whatever," finished Han, "Don't you have to be somewhere?"

The wookie consented, saying goodbye as he stood and left.

Han sipped his drink as his friend left, cringing as he did so.

_I've had Nerf piss that tasted better than this, _he though to himself.

* * *

The small patch of open ground between where Han was sitting and the bar sparked and flashed blue. It was small at first, rapidly growing larger, hissing and cracking as it did. Some patrons ran screaming from the room, other more brave people moved away from the light, pressing themselves to the walls as they watched the events.

Han put down his drink, still sitting in his small booth. The light had transformed, before his stood a large square based blue box. Two glass windows sat at the top of it's rectangular sides. The words "Police Box" glew above them.

Han was unsure of it's purpose, and even more unsure of how it had simply materialised in-front of him. His first thought was that it was a changing booth, but this didn't fit.

The door of the Tardis's collapsed to one side. A man stepped out, wearing a old blue jacket and pants, both with faint pinstripes, ruffled white shirt and tie. From Han's view, his hair waved to the left, the tips of each strand highlighted blonde, hair full of hair product.

"Han Solo?" he asked loudly.

Han pointed at himself, a questioning look on his face, silently mouthing the word, "me?" His hand moved from below the table.

The Doctor raised his arm, but Han was quicker. As if he knew his adversary's actions before he made them, Han removed the blaster from his holster. It cracked twice, sending two shots travelling across the room. Both hit the Doctor in the chest, knocking him on his back, burn marks scorched into his jacket.

Han smiled to himself.

"No idea what that was about," he said to the terrified barman as he stood to leave, "and sorry about -"

His joy was short-lived. The doctor rose, the smell of his burning jacket still wafting in the air. Yet, the skin beneath the blaster holes had completely healed. He again raised his hand up, revealing a small silver tube shaped device. It fired.  
Han managed to dive out the lasers path, just missing it as it scraped past his face, rolling behind the bar. He felt it's heat as it crackled past his, charring his clean cheek.  
Han's blaster was raised slightly above the counter and fired half blindly, one eye peaking out. He was puzzled, a clean blaster hit like that would have dropped any normal man.

The Doctor made to move closer to his position, the odd blaster burn colliding having no effect on him.

Han scanned around, looking for anything to slow this opponent down with, hastily planning an escape. A final crack followed his final shot.

The laser completely missed the Doctor, instead colliding with a drink positioned on a table's edge. The glass cracked from the top, spilling liquid onto the floor.

The Doctor took a step forward, straight onto the spilt drink. He slipped, arms flailing around as he tried to balance himself, collapsing backwards into the Tardis.

The doors slammed shut, and with a hiss and crack the blue box disappeared into nothing again.

Han stood up. His head swam with questions, yet he didn't attempt to answer them there. Instead he twirled his pistol in his hand before replacing it in his holster.

Han was very good at making it seem like his accidents were intended.

* * *

The controls panel of the Tardis was going haywire, lights flashing everywhere, a constant beeping sound echoing throughout the time travelling vessel without rhythm.  
The Doctor cursed his luck. His fall had sent him flying backwards, landing straight into the Tardis's controls. And, without intending to, he had teleported himself into a time-lock, doomed to remain there for-ever, unable to escape.

Maybe he should have listened to his gut before going after Han Solo.

* * *

_Yes, Han Solo beat the Doctor with smuggler's luck. He is that awesome._

_Smuggler's always fire first. Smuggler's always dodge. And the most awesome smuggler's almost always win. Fact._


End file.
